I Forgot Your Birthday This Year

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about death, mourning, and time.

Submitted: March 10, 2013

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Submitted: March 10, 2013



I Forgot Your Birthday This Year


Having had the red clay caked

To my shoe soles and crusted beneath my nails,

I could tell you the chemical composition of the soil.



Having viewed the crisp cut grass

Moving toward attention in honor of the noonday

sun, I could tell you the upright length of every blade.

(3.4 inches, 4.2 in, 4 in, 2)


Having listened to lowering cranks,

I could tell you the number of seconds past before

it reached a depth that I couldn’t force my mind to go.

(1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds, 4)


But having been at your grave site

when they started to seal your body into the earth,

I couldn’t tell you what was written on the headstone.

(I could not bring myself to look and have not since)


And now, having stood so removed

from that day that I’ve started to forget to mark off

your birthday on my calendar, I’m glad that I don’t know.


(In any case, you deserve more than 22 years and a brief description)

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